Montana Woods N Water June 2016 Print Edition

Publisher’s Notes Raf Viniard ~ Publisher Where did May go? We are almost halfway through June depending on when you read this. As I sit and type this, my outside thermometer is showing 93 degrees...really...it is way too early for these kinds of temps. This summer could be a hot and dry one...pray for plenty of rain. Our fire fighters would appreciate the advanced prayers. Huckleberries will probably be early this year so start planning.

This issue is overloaded like last month’s. If I had the advertising revenue I know I would have 48-60 pages of content every month. When I go around to all of NW Montana distribution sites each month to restock the new issue, I am lucky to pickup maybe a 100 of the previous months publications. We could easily put out 10K each month. Thanks to all our followers for making us so popular. I would love to start a subscription service but I just don’t trust this economy any further than I can throw it. A high five to our advertisers for making this publication possible. Please support our advertisers and tell them thanks for advertising.

Time to put away the long sleeve shirts, grab the fishing and camping gear. Get rested up for archery season which is only about 85 days away as of this writing. Get those game cameras out and let them do the scouting for you. Water sources maybe very critical again this year.

Father’s Day is this month along with Flag Day so treat your Dad to something fun and fly Old Glory proudly. The primary elections are behind us...thank goodness! But July 4th is right around the corner. Check local ordinances before going out and purchasing fireworks.

So what do you think about our cover photo this month? I had so much fun doing this cover.

The Epperson family was such a joy to be around. I have done a few crazy things trying to get a cover photo and for this one I had to wade out into the Thompson River up to my knees.

Wow...that water was a little cool. With that many kids and fishing poles flopping around I felt if I slipped out in the river they would snag me out if needed. I want to thank Zack & Mary Epperson of Trout Creek, MT and their seven beautiful kids for their time and kindness.

Their kids were so polite, courteous and well mannered...they even offered so share their snacks with me. When I spoke and interacted with their family, there is no doubt they are a God fearing family and have been very blessed. Grandma Yvonne Epperson of Thompson Falls and Zack’s brother Zarach was also present during the photo shoot. Zarach did you get to finish that nap?

Guest Writers This Month: Nathan Albertson, page 6, Sharing Your Passion For The Outdoors Alexis Helterline, Page 11, Who’s The Turkey Now? Michael & Carl Freeman, Page 25/26, Pilgrim/The Bet Paula Snyder RDH, Page 22, Are You Prepared For A Toothache On The Trail

What’s Inside Hunting 2 Trapping 4 Shooting Sports 5 The Next Generation 6 Montana Dan 11 Sportsman’s Meditation 13 Beards & Bears 14 Anglers & Antlers 15 Conservation Events 16 Tony Rebo Unleashed 18 Fly Fishing 20 Outdoor Meds 22 Reflections Of The Hunt 25 Outdoor Tech 26 Father’s Day Tribute 27 Mountain Memories 28 More Pics 32 Outdoor Vet 36 Seen On Blog Only www.montanawoodsnwater.com/Blog Old Vets Tribute to Dad

Staff Publisher/Editor/Layout/Sales: Raf - 406-407-0612 Photographer Robin Hao Pro Staff Writers This Month: Chuck Stranahan Pastor Jim Sinclair Dan Helterline Tony Rebo Carol Cady

Editorial Policy:

Montana Woods N Water (MWW) reserves the right to refuse to publish any form of content that does not include the author’s name, complete mailing address, and/or valid phone number or e-mail address.

Anonymous submissions will not be Front Cover Photo: Zack Epperson and his seven kids fishing on the Thompson River. Left to addressed or published. MWW reserves right front row - Bethany age 9, Henry age 6, Katie age 3, Carrie age 4, Diana age 8 and Hawkins the right not to publish anything we feel is age 6. Back row: Zack and baby Jackie. Happy Father’s Day Zack! The Eppersons live in Trout not in good taste or appropriate. All Creek, Montana. content, material and graphics designed by Montana Woods N Water are copyrighted.

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Montana Woods N Water 171 Clark Creek Loop Plains, Montana 59859 406-407-0612 Email: raf@montanawoodsnwater.com www.montanawoodsnwater.com

HUNTING

Bear Season 2016

By Raf Viniard Since bear season went out I have been in sort of a fog wondering how the season went by so fast. I keep wanting to go fill the cooler up with Mountain Dews/Red Bulls and grab some snacks and go glass for some bears.

If time permitted in the afternoons I looked forward to slipping out into the mountains and looking for a big old black bear and other mountain critters such as elk, deer, grouse and just soaking up the fresh air and the beauty of the mountains. Some days I tagged along with George and we would run from spot to spot glassing or walking old gated road beds. When Pam had time we would drive the roads looking for her a bear. She was not as picky as I was...she would have been tickled with a bathroom rug size bear, any color and preferably within a few yards of the road. With her MS she is very limited as to how far she can walk but she can sure ride a long ways and makes some awesome curry chicken sandwiches Overall I had a great year. I seen nine bears and passed on four of the nine. The bear pictured in this article was taken one afternoon when Brant Nass of Plains, MT and I went out. We got a late start but we wasn’t gone more than thirty minutes when we spotted this big boar about to cross a heavily traveled mountain road that hundreds of bear hunters before us had driven. I had several folks ask me why didn’t you shoot it since you have never killed a bear? Well as you get older the thrill of watching someone else can be just as exciting as harvesting it yourself. I knew Brant really wanted that bear and he was like a kid in a candy store, I thought for sure I was going to need some Ritalin to calm him down. Through teamwork we pulled it off. Good Lord willing I would have other chances or the fall season to fill my tag. We had to call in the troops to find and get the bear out but it was another Montana Mountain Memory with friends. Ever tried to look for a bear in the mountains wearing Crocs? That’s a story for another article. A big thank you goes out to Tate and Cade Stinnett for bringing a cart to haul this old boy out (the bear that is).

Since I am new to the Montana bear hunting thing and being its only my second year coupled with the fact I was pretty picky about the type of bear I wanted, it left a lot of room to learn and truly experience Montana spring bear hunting. I was under no pressure to just kill the first bear I saw. I wanted to learn all I could and if I shot early the learning opportunities would be greatly reduced. The last two spring seasons have been challenging with the early arrival of spring. Thanks to George Nass I was able to pick his brain and learn from someone with years of experience. I would also slip into Trophy Taker and pick Zach Butcher’s brain and anyone else I could find to learn as much as I could from seasoned bear hunters. So here is what I learned about spring bear hunting this year.

Bears are where they are, but if you can find that little green patch of grass with some bear poop you might just be in the money.

Don’t think they are all deep in the mountains, they may be living within a few yards of a main road. Find the food source and bear activity and you might just fill that tag.

The odds of spotting a bear walking vs. riding is about the same from my experience. I get bored riding and love to get out and walk the old gated roads. I really like to be the first one on the road in the spring so I can also look for antler sheds. As I get older I know those roads are going to get harder to walk so I take advantage of it now while I can. Continued on next page.

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HUNTING CONTINUED Slow down and look through small openings and it is amazing what you will see sometimes. The butt of an elk or a mule deer laying in the shade or better yet a bear feeding along, that you would have missed if you were driving too fast or walking a steady beat. I have walked or driven down a road and been gone no more than 5 or 10 minutes and come back through and there was a bear standing there.

I am still having a hard time judging the size of a bear and the distance. This is where good optics and range finders come into play.

Bears are tough animals and you want the shot placement to be dead on unless you like looking for a wounded bear in the dark.

A bear’s eye sight is not that great and their hearing can be off and on depending on the background noise such as wind. However, that nose does not lie and they depend on it for their survival. Keep those wind currents in mind when stalking that bear.

Don’t be in such a hurry to shoot the first bear you see unless you are on a tight time schedule and only have a few days to hunt. Get your family and friends involved and let them help you glass for bears and other critters. George’s wife Franchesca soon figured out my plan after I had passed on a few bears while out hunting with George. If I tagged out then George would not have been able to get a “Kitchen Pass” to go bear hunting. Thanks Franchesca for letting George come out to play!

Before you shoot, make sure you are in good enough shape to retrieve that bear or have buddies to help. Shoot within your range and capabilities. A wounded bear can be bad on many fronts. Make sure there are no cubs around. Have a plan and understand the cost of processing, tanning or mounting your trophy before you pull that trigger. If you don’t like bear meat there are plenty of folks that would love to take it off your hands. Get the meat cooled down quickly.

Take plenty of food and drink, it sure makes for a fun day out eating junk food, laughing and “Living The Dream!”. Don’t forget to throw a jacket in the truck or your pack because by sundown you are going to need it. Also, don’t forget the headlamp/flashlight.

If you are riding around with someone else offer to pay for the gas and snacks it helps share the cost. I have already requested stock in my local gas stations this year. I am normally a solitaire hunter but I really enjoyed cruising the roads with friends and family.

Even though this publication consumes a very large part of my time I was able to have a very enjoyable spring bear season...I just wished I had more time to chase those big bruins I long to place my tag on. The “big” black bear with a brown nose is still my objective this fall.

Here is a picture of a bear I passed on the last day of the season around 4 PM. How big do you think he is? He is standing on a ridge straight across from us at 312 yards. We watched this bear for over 30 minutes and I finally decided to pass. Look at the picture to the right and you will see why I passed. We had another bear on our agenda that day.

With a track like this I am hoping to catch him in a Huckleberry patch this fall...just hope he is black with a brown nose! All photos for this article supplied by George Nass.

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TRAPPING

From the Desk of Dan Helterline, Region 1 Montana Trappers Association (MTA) Director: A Call To Action In April I attended the Fish Wildlife and Parks furbearer meeting in Kalispell at the Region 1 office.

The purpose of the meeting was to go over last years harvest information and discuss any upcoming changes in quotas and regulations. When the topic of the fisher quota was addressed, the department biologists suggested that since the quota was so low, with only two fishers allowed to be trapped in region one, that the current statewide quota be reduced to zero. This proposal was immediately and strongly opposed by ALL participants at the meeting. I thought that the matter was adequately addressed and our wishes to keep the fisher quota the same had been heard.

At the close of the meeting the attending members of the Montana Trappers Association discussed electing a new board of director, I was nominated and voted in unanimously, taking the reigns from Paul Fielder. I feel as a newly elected MTA Director for R1 it is my obligation to reach out to the trappers in the region, whether they are MTA members or not, on issues that effect us. It was later in May that I learned that Mike Thompson, a lead biologist for the Fish Wildlife and Parks, made a very in depth presentation to the Commissioners, supporting keeping the fisher quota the same and keeping the trapping season open. He supplied data that supported the sustainable harvest of fisher and stated that trapping was of no detriment to the fisher population. It was in fact the data from trapping fishers that was allowing biologist to gather age class and fisher sex information, helping show a stable fisher population in Montana. Commissioner Gary Wolf choose to ignore the facts and recommendations of the departments biologist and is currently pushing to reduce the fisher quota to zero and effectively ending fisher trapping in Montana.

What are the ramifications of this to trappers in Western Montana? More prohibitive trapping regulations, similar to what has happened in the Lynx Protection Zone in North Western Montana, all incidental trapped fishers will be confiscated by the FW&P, and greatly reduced trapping opportunities just to name a few. This is the same road that the Lynx and wolverine has went down and look at the results of that. Where will it end? It seems as outdoorsmen we are losing our rights and freedoms faster than I can type this cry for action.

What can we do? Initially, even if you are not a trapper, go to the link at the end of this article and comment on the Fish Wildlife and Parks website that you are adamantly against the reduction of the fisher quota to zero. Trappers are just at the front of firing line, you would be naive to think that trapping is the only activity in jeopardy.

Join the Montana Trappers Association, even if you are not a trapper, we have strength in numbers, if you are a trapper an not a member, we need all the help we can get. Get out and vote, the Commissioners are appointed by the Governor, we need Commissioners that will listen to the facts and use sound science to base their decisions on and not be driven by emotionally based on political agendas, we need a new governor.

These are just a few of the things we can do as sportsmen to help cement our outdoor heritage and rights here in Montana. I am very fortunate to have legally harvested a fisher and a wolverine, both very rewarding and memorable trapping experiences, and I would like all Montana trappers to have the same opportunity, it may be too late for the wolverine, but I would like to think we still have a dog in the fight for the fisher.

The comment period for these issues closes June 18 so there is still time to make our voices heard. http://fwp.mt.gov/hunting/ publicComments/2016/furbearerSeasons.html

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SHOOTING SPORTS

A small trap club compared by most but the camaraderie, sportsmanship, and the beautiful backdrop coupled with some heavy ribbing of each other made this days events another one for the memory books. From single shots to expensive over and under shotguns, shooters competed for meat prizes. Whether is was a Buddy Shoot, Anne Oakley or just a standard round of trap the hard bird to the right caught some of the best shooters by surprise. However, the longer they shot the better they got. Empty hulls for a future reloading was stuffed back into shooting bags/vests and the smell of burnt gun powder drifted across the trap field.

As you stepped from the club house to the range across the little bridge you can only wonder how many shooters had walked those planks before you. Shooters huddled under a big brown tarp to keep the hot high noon sun at bay. A gentle breeze moved under the tarp as shooters sat on logs and watched the shooting action. Each waited patiently for their name to be called for the next round of shooting action.

Roxanne Stunison of Troy (pictured bottom right) eagerly took the shooters money and set them up for another round. Mark Roesler-Begalke (pictured bottom left) of Troy, MT manned the clip board and kept track of hits and misses . Mark had his hands full as every shooting station was filled at the beginning of each round to only watch it slowly reduce in size as one shooter after another was eliminated.

Michael Wells (pictured left) also of Troy had to have worn out his finger launching bird after bird upon the call of the shooter to “pull� or some variation thereof.

Continued on page 23.

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THE NEXT GENERATION

Sharing Your Passion For The Outdoors—By Nathan Albertson What drives a hunter to sit in a tree stand for hours on end, when the wind is blowing and the temperatures are below freezing? Why would an angler sit in a canoe, in the middle of a lake and broil in the sun, when there has not been a bite on the line for hours? What possesses a trapper to brave ice and snow to wade creeks in the dead of winter? Ultimately, it comes down to one factor, a passion for the outdoors.

In recent years, numerous states have revised hunting, trapping, and angling regulations, making it easier for youngsters to get involved in the outdoors. Montana is no exception. In 2015, the Montana State Legislature passed a new law and Montana’s Fish & Wildlife Commission approved new rules, which allow youth, ages 10 to 17, to purchase an Apprentice Certification. The Apprentice Certification allows young hunters to purchase some Montana hunting licenses prior to completing a hunter education course, provided an adult mentor accompanies them.

While clothing companies and retailers have gotten on board and now cater to the various clothing needs for children to hunt and fish, other portions of the outdoor industries are trying to get youth involved as well. These steps are a necessary part of the equation; however, one subject seems to go unaddressed. What are the basic principles and steps that parents and mentors can follow to help successfully introduce children to the outdoor sports and traditions?

Perhaps you have read that if we train up a child in the way they should go, when they grow old they shall not depart from it. This is as true today as when it was written. There are many distractions in the world today for young people and personal time with our children becomes a rare commodity. One of the most meaningful ways we have at our disposal for connecting with future generations is to share our passion with the youngsters in our life. As such, we can use these opportunities to pass on ethical and moral values, which will aid them in the future.

In addition, early in their lives we can begin an education, which is available and visible in the world around us and help them to understand the beauty and amazement in the world God created for us!

Over the last 20 plus years, I have had the privilege of introducing a sibling and spouse to hunting and angling. I have also taken friends and family members who were either new to hunting, or new to hunting a different game species, and helped them to learn how to do so. Now, with children of my own, I recognize the mistakes I have made in the past with introducing youngsters to hunting, and I have started using several guiding principles and ideas, which have, to date, provided positive results.

Patience and Goals Patience may be the most challenging principle for many adults when working with children; it often has been for me. These challenges must be remembered when setting goals for the day and we must have reasonable expectations of our children based upon their ages and abilities. Children, depending on their age, walk slower, cannot walk as far, need help getting dressed in warm and appropriate attire, have a difficult time with noise discipline, and in general have a very short attention span. It is very important to plan for these delays in the schedule and count on them occurring.

Fishing for me is a lighthearted sport. Trapping is a little more serious, but I find more opportunities to involve the children.

However, hunting I take very serious and I must constantly remind myself when I take the children; it is their hunt and their opportunity.

This becomes the guiding principle and as such, we progress at their pace.

Flowing creeks possess a curiosity for children of all ages Continued on next page 6

THE NEXT GENERATION CONTINUED Remember, our job is not to shoot the biggest critter that day, nor catch the largest fish. Our primary goal is to ignite a passion for the outdoors within that child, which will burn long and bright, so they may pass on the same traditions to their children. Most of us have limited time schedules when it comes to outdoor activities. Work, family obligations, vehicle maintenance, domestic chores, and other extracurricular activities, all play a part in limiting our time on the water or on stand in the woods. Before embarking on an outing with your children, you must first establish your priorities for the season or day.

I have found weekend evenings work best to take our kids out hunting. This allows me to seriously hunt or fish the morning hours when I have had the best luck in the past and it allows them to get plenty of sleep. In turn, I will plan the evening activities for the last few hours of daylight, thereby limiting how long we are out. A few hours confined to a small vessel or ground blind is usually about all a young person’s attention span can handle. Animal activity typically increases at this time, so odds are very good we will see something, turkeys headed to roost, deer coming out to feed, geese flying in for the night, or osprey fishing for a bite before bedtime.

If that day does not work well for going afield, it may be possible to have the children help you prepare for the outing. Let us get them involved and help them to take ownership of our shared activities! Sometimes, turkey box calls need to be tested or duck calls need to be exercised. My daughters find it very interesting to see what I put in my daypack the night before and have helped to restring more than one fishing reel. Building weasel boxes together makes for an educational and hands on project a child can take pride in. Additionally, if I am feeling ornery, we may even have smell tests for which bait would work best for coyotes versus bobcats. Mother is not as fond of the last activity, but like me, children seem to have an innate curiosity regarding bait and it can generate much raucous laughter!

Safety, Ethics, and the Law Safety is one subject, which can never be stressed enough. There is not any way possible to be too safe. While fishing, depending on the age of the children and the body of the water you are fishing, ensure all children have a personal flotation device available and they wear it if necessary. Most states make this a requirement if you will be fishing from a boat. If hunting with a bow, all arrows equipped with broadheads should remain in an appropriate quiver until you are sitting in the stand. The same concept applies to a firearm; it should have an empty chamber while moving to and from your hunting stand or trap location. Once seated in a stand or ground blind, as a right-handed shooter, I place the children on my right side and my rifle or bow on my left, with me in between them. While this may limit my field of fire, I set the stand up in such a way to accommodate for this. It also allows me to control access to the weapon of choice that day and prevent the kids from being swept by a muzzle or cut by a broadhead.

Someone once told me children are like video cameras with no off button. It is an important analogy to remember. The kids and I will often have conversations of why I cannot shoot an animal or keep a certain fish. I will explain either I do not have a tag for that species or it is out of season. Maybe the animal is positioned for a poor shot or it is getting too late and it would not be ethical or legal to take such a shot. I try to explain it would not be fair to shoot the animal too late in the evening or that if we shot it in a bad spot the animal would suffer and get sick. Kids develop an early since of fairness and this is an easily grasped concept for the children.

You cannot hide contagious excitement!

Continued on page 9.

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THE NEXT GENERATION CONTINUED Should a mistake happen, maybe a buck wasn’t quite legal, the doe you thought you were shooting ends up being a legal buck, or you accidentally kept a fish you weren’t supposed to, own up to the mistake. Call the local game warden and be prepared for the repercussions. Mistakes happen and we owe it to our children to teach them how to take responsibility for those mistakes when they occur. Yes, it is humbling and yes, our pride is wounded. It might even prove expensive. However, we must be willing to admit our mistakes and have the personal responsibility to see that those mistakes become righted. Again, little eyes are upon you, be the example you wish them to be in the future.

Fun & Success What child does not like to have fun? I am sure there is a clinical case out there, but I have never seen it. This is a culmination of the aforementioned categories coupled with some imagination. One thing my kids look forward to are snacks when we go on an outing. For some reason, hot cocoa, cookies, or cheese and crackers all taste better riding in the truck home, in the canoe, or in the field watching critters.

In the spring, we will occasionally plan a turkey hunt and scouting trip where we leave the house about daybreak. Our kids are a little young for walking all morning long, but riding around in the truck, going from place to place to see if turkeys are hot and gobbling all morning does not work well either. I always try to plan a route close to a lake or creek, so that by mid-morning, we can get out and stretch our legs while the kids play. If we are near a spot the fish may be biting, we will have our fishing poles with us and switch gears. On the other hand, the kids might toss rocks into the creek while I pan for gold slightly down stream (in case they were to fall in, I can play catcher). The key here is to break up the monotony of one activity with several smaller activities. As long as we are outside and in the timber, it is all good.

One of the key reasons I like the last few hours of evenings for activities is that nightfall gives us a curtain, a reason to pack up and go home. This often occurs long before the kids are ready to call it a day. I always try to make sure we are headed home or at least to the next activity, before the kids get tired or bored of what we are doing, especially at the younger ages. Again, this is their time, so if they are done fishing or hunting, or have gotten cold, regardless of the time, we pack it in. Even if this means we only have 30 minutes on stand!

Now that my eldest is almost eight, if we are by ourselves without her little sister, I will ask her to wait a few more minutes, maybe ten or fifteen. Our modern day society does not reinforce patience in children well and with a definitive time frame, she is usually willing to wait a few more minutes before we go. Once that time is up, regardless of what we are seeing or how much day light we have left, we will head to the truck unless she has changed her mind about leaving. However, I do try to structure activities so we are headed in before they wish to go home. Like a good comedian, end on a good performance and leave them wanting more.

I also do my best to make sure we have some level of success, even if that means we are simply seeing the critters we are pursuing, not necessarily filling tags. The Montana Fish, Wildlife, and Parks, stocks a small fishing pond in our community for the kids to fish. This provides an excellent opportunity with high odds of success. The trout do not always cooperate, but we regularly have a bite or two, or see fish rising to the surface when we go out. Our kids love to head there for a quick hour or two of fishing, mostly because they do have some success. Similarly, I try to get permission for some smaller tracts of private property during deer season, where we do not have far to walk and can often see deer, even if they are not in range. My children enjoy these opportunities to see wildlife and it excites them knowing when they return there are good odds of seeing animals and maybe filling tags.

A fall run of Kokanee Salmon presents many opportunities to play and splash in the river.

Continued on page 10.

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THE NEXT GENERATION CONTINUED It may be necessary to redefine a successful day afield. Remember, our goal is the promotion of passion in that child for the outdoors.

Filled tags or maxed out game limits will, most likely, not be the order of the day. Instead, focus on helping that child gain knowledge by observing critters in their natural habitat or having the successful opportunity to practice different skill sets that will aid them in the future.

There is value in watching deer and understanding how, where, and why they enter a food plot. Having the chance to giggle together in curiosity and awe regarding the ability a fat turkey has to sit on a skinny branch and not break it creates stories to tell friends and loved ones. Lessons can also be learned by shifting the focus of calling predators, to learning how to use an open reed call and redirecting that fidgeting movement into noise that may produce a curious coyote. Most importantly, have fun, be safe, and treasure the opportunity you have had to make long lasting and joyful memories with that child in your life.

Put It All Together The afore mentioned ideas are not meant to be a road map to success, but rather building blocks one can apply when planning an outing with a child. As a parent or mentor, you will have greater knowledge of the tolerances and abilities of the child you will be taking afield. Remembering these guiding principles, modifying them for your particular situation, and employing them with some imagination in your plan for the day will increase the odds of success and opportunities to share your passion for the outdoors with a younger generation.

It is unlikely that I will leave my children a large monetary inheritance when I pass.

However, I can share with them the soft step of a white tail doe cautiously stepping into an alfalfa field at dusk, or the quiet slurp and resultant splash of a rising rainbow trout while the morning dew is still on. When the sun is setting in the mountains and the aspen are ablaze with golden leaves and the larch needles have the mountainside lit up like a birthday cake, it is awe-inspiring. To watch a spring turkey strut into view, plumage puffed up and fanned out, his head tucked into his chest and beet red, and to hear my child gasp with a quiet breath, gives me occasion to smile. By sharing my passion with them, and an awe and amazement of the world God has created for us; I pass on a priceless legacy to my children. I can think of no greater treasurer to bestow on future generations.

Throwing rocks into the river is a welcome break from riding in the truck.

Article and all photos provided by Nathan Albertson Terry Josephson of Plains, MT with a huge Puff Ball. These mushrooms are edible according to Terry. I found a couple of smaller ones and tried to sautĂŠ them and was not impressed with the taste.

But of course I am more partial to a good ole Left to Right: Derek, Capt.

JereMorel.

If you cut one in half and it has started my and brown Dad standing bow of peels the turning give it a on toss.

Terry outerwith layeraoff and makes boat thumbs up! sure it is solid and sautĂŠs it in butter and onions. I think my memory as a child running through the cow pasture stomping on them barefooted might have effected my opinion. Terry can have my share! Anyone else tried one of these?

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MONTANA DAN

Who Is The Turkey Now?

By Dan and Alexis Helterline At the end of last month article Alexis and I were getting seriously schooled by the areas local turkey population, I started to feel like we were the laughing stock of turkey town. The last couple of times we had gone out, I couldn't even get a gobbler to answer me, the season was almost over and my optimism for Alexis bagging her turkey was seriously starting to fade.

We had hunted at Jim Shallenberger’s ranch several times, coming up empty handed each time, but being the good hearted person that he is, Jim would always offer up some positive encouragement, and remind Alexis not to give up. She never gave up and here is Alexis’s story as to how her seasoned end. I am so proud of her!

Written By Alexis Helterline...

Last turkey season I wasn't old enough to hunt so I just tagged along with my dad for what he claims was "moral support". We went out to the woods and my dad got a turkey that seemed really easy, we called from our parking spot and one answered right back. We made a quick approach, set up, it came in on a string and my dad had what seemed like an easy shot. We "high fived" and I thought man, this turkey hunting is easy!

This April I had just finished hunters safety right before the opening day of turkey season and I thought, now its my turn to go get an easy turkey. Boy have I got a story for you. On opening morning we were set up in the predawn chill, Dad waited and then called, gobblers answered several times before finally flying down and out of their roost. Pretty soon I could just see a tom's head over the ridge as he approached followed by seven hens. I use a 20 gauge shotgun so the turkey has to be 20 yards or so to have a good shot. I took my first shot and missed because it was 40 yards. My dad said that we needed some decoys to help get a tom closer, luckily they were on sale at Sportsman’s Warehouse so he picked up two, a hen and a Jake.

Next we went to Jim Shallenberger's ranch on Buffalo Bill Creek, he said there were a lot of turkeys this year and it seemed like a good bet. Once again, waiting in the predawn chill, Dad called, and got several answers. Soon a tom was fast approaching, answering every call, and my Dad told me to get my gun ready. All the sudden it was coming in from behind us, making a run at the decoys. My dad forgot to tell me to wait for the turkey to stop moving. I must have shot right over that stinker's head, he was very lucky that day.

Dad and I hunted several more times with mixed results, two toms came in behind us or they saw us move. Sometimes they had hens they wouldn't leave, or they would shut up when they flew out of the roost. We had been hunting every weekend in the season, morning and evening, and still no luck. I was starting to get discouraged but Jim Shallenberger told me never to give up, this was good advice that paid off in the end.

It was the second to last day of the season and our last attempt to get one. Jim had called our house and said he was still hearing several toms gobbling around his ranch. He said that they had been coming into the open every night and that we should just sit and wait. There was one especially nice gobbler with several hens, probably the same stinker that I missed at the beginning of the season, maybe tonight would be my night to get revenge!

Continued on page 12.

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MONTANA DAN CONTINUED By now all these turkeys were call-shy and knew what our call sounded like, so this evening, my dad left his call in the truck. We waited for about an hour, and then my dad notices a hen out the corner of his eye, so he motioned for me to get ready. Sure enough here comes the big old tom out into a little opening. My dad sees me taking aim at the gobbler with my gun and whispered for me to "shoot". I take careful aim, then squeeze the trigger. When the gun went off the gobbler immediately jumped in the air and there were feathers everywhere. He quickly took off running before I could get another shot, and as he ran into the trees we could see he had a broken wing.

My dad thought that we had a wounded turkey, so we walked over to where he was last standing. Dad then had me wait there while he went into the trees to look for him. Pretty soon he yelled, "Alexis, you got him", and told me to get over here and check out my turkey. It had run about 50 yards and died perfectly with its head over a log. When I finally saw him I think that was probably one of the happiest moments of my life. Dad made me pack him back to the truck while he carried my gun. After reaching the truck we had to go show Jim, he was very excited for me and insisted that we weigh my trophy with his scale. Jim stood on our tailgate to get the tom high enough off the ground, it weighed 20 pounds and had a ten inch beard. My dad and I were very happy, getting that turkey was a lot harder than I expected, especially after hunting with Dad when he got his the previous year. I sure hope it gets easier next season. By the way thanks Dad and Happy Fathers Day, I love you Dad! I also want to thank Mr. & Mrs. Jim Shallenberger for letting me hunt on their property and kill my first turkey.

Publisher’s Note: I took an excerpt from Dan’s version of the story and I think this sums a Father’s feelings between a father and their son or daughter when it comes to their kids hunting or fishing buddies successes: “We found a comfortable spot at the edge of the meadow and got ready to wait for the turkeys evening arrival.

Alexis had actually become pretty good at holding still and being patient while waiting for a turkeys approach, all of the unsuccessful past hunts had taught her small lessons that she was now able to put together, and help her to connect when that tom finally entered into shotgun range.

I think I had dozed off several times that evening waiting for the turkeys to appear in the meadow, but each time I would look over at Alexis she was holding perfectly still and not fidgeting around like she had done on previous hunts. I was scanning the trees were I anticipated the turkeys to move into the meadow from when on the edge of my peripheral vision I caught a glimpse of a hen cutting through the edge of the trees.. I slowly motioned for Alexis to raise the gun and get ready, I figured the tom would emerge shortly. After several minutes of looking at the edge of the trees for the tom, I saw that Alexis was taking aim with her shotgun. I then shifted my focus to the area that she was aiming and suddenly there he was, the unmistakable telltale red head, a mature gobbler. From my angle I could only see his head but he was well within 20 gauge range so I quietly whispered “shoot him”. The words had barely cleared my mouth when Alexis fired her shotgun, shattering the evening silence. I expected the turkey to start flopping in their usual manner when head shot, but instead the tom jumped into the air then hit the ground running. As he re-entered the timber I could see that one wing was definitely broken, not the expected outcome I was hoping for. When I looked at Alexis I could tell she was disappointed, to say the least. We immediately went to where the tom entered the trees and told Alexis to wait here while I went and searched for what I thought was now a wounded turkey. Words can't describe how relieved I was when I spotted the gobbler dead a mere fifty yard inside the timber after a short search. I yelled back at Alexis, “You got him, get over here and check him out!” I honestly don't think I've ever seen her more excited and I've never been more relieved when we laid eyes on that dead old bird. My chest puffed out like a strutting Tom I was so proud of her!

Alexis has since been pouring over several of the Turkey Country magazines that Jim gave her to read, and she is already telling me what we need to do different during next years season, and so it begins!”

12

SPORTSMAN’S MEDITATION

Clear Sailing or Stormy Weather Ahead?

By Pastor Jim Sinclair

Ok, I said let’s do it, it’s a three day weekend, let’s go camping. We loaded all the gear into our travel trailer and off we went. One thing I have always liked about camping is sitting around a campfire with family and friends on a nice clear night looking at the stars. So here we are sitting by ourselves around a fire all by our lonesome. I must admit my coat wasn’t quite enough to keep the cold wind from giving me goosebumps, but nonetheless I was camping.

It is amazing how the weather can manipulate our lives, we are not people that like storms, storms bring adverse circumstance to our lives, In the storm of life is where our foundation is tested, it reminded me of this story from the Good Book, that’s found in, Matthew 7:24-27 24 “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock.

25 The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.

26 But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand.

Therefore whosoever heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them, I will liken him unto a wise man, which built his house upon a rock: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell not: for it was founded upon a rock. And everyone that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand: and the rain descended, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and beat upon that house; and it fell: and great was the fall of it.

This describes a storm, one of the things I noticed is there is no middle foundation, it’s either rock or sand, many times in life we are prone to build on sand. Once we start building on sand it can be hard to notice how weak the foundation is. Then when the storm hit’s “Great is the fall of it.” The foundation crumbles.

We must watch what we let into our spiritual diet/life, if we hear and do what he says, we will be wise. If not, we can fall and fall hard.

Once a little sand is built on, it get’s easier and easier to build on it.

This reminds me of this story. A foolish old farmer, so the story goes, concluded one day that the oats he had fed his mule for years were simply costing him too much. So he hatched a plan...he mixed a little sawdust in with the feed, and then a little more the next day, and even more the next, each time reducing the amount of oats in the mix. The mule didn’t seem to notice the gradual change, so the farmer thought things were fine and kept decreasing the proportion of oats. But weeks later, on the day he finally fed the poor beast nothing but sawdust, the mule finished the meal and fell over dead.

I hope the point is understood, nothing can substitute our relationship with Jesus. We must set ourselves on guard lest we drift toward to much sand and not notice it. The exchange is ever so subtle hardly even noticeable until our spiritual life collapses before us. So the point being...Keep the sand out and always build on the ROCK, (Jesus) Keep livin the life Pastor Jim. Due to lack of space this month we were not able to highlight some of the activities from the Montana Sportsman For Fish and Wildlife 7th Annual Pig Roast and the Western Regional Trapping & Outdoor Expo. However, all the pictures I took during the events are posted on line at :

www.montanawoodsnwater.com/events/ We will cover both events in the July issue along with many other great articles and new events.

Follow us on Facebook and/or our website to stay current with happenings in NW Montana.

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BEARDS & BEARS PHOTO CONTEST Thanks to everyone that entered the photo contest. Our judges, Lori Goodman (Graphic Design), Mike William (Photographer), Ed Moreth (Photographer), Mischelle Thomas (Photographer) and our own Robin K Ha’o (Photographer) had a hard time deciding which one was the best. I want to thank our judges for taking the time to judge this photo contest. Acelyn Walker Hill took the win and will be the new owner of a Kahr CT 45. Since she is not 21 yet, looks like somebody like Grandpa Billy Hill will have to pick it up and hold on to it for her for a few years. Izzy Tunison, Gerry Mercer and Kyle Wengerd were our top three finalists. Our finalist will each receive an embroidered Montana Woods N Water hat prepared by Peregrine Embroidery, Plains, MT. A special thanks goes out to Mangy Moose of Plains, MT for handling the firearm transfer.

Finalist

WINNER

Acelyn Walker Hill

Izzy Tunison

Finalist

Finalist

Gerry Mercer Kyle Wengerd

2nd Row Pictures Left to Right: Sheldon & Lizzie Wengerds of Noxon, MT, with a pair of nice turkeys. Marissa Nass, George Nass, Brant Nass and Raf Viniard (Back) of Plains, MT with Brant’s beautiful 6’5” bear and Gerry Mercer of Libby, MT with a gorgeous black bear. Good job Gerry!

Bottom Row Pictures Left to Right: Viktoriya Smith of Libby, MT with her first bear & Thomas Roark of Troy Montana with his first Jake. The Next Generation poured it on this spring!

Other contestants that entered that was pictured in the June issue:

Mike Gergen– Bear Caleb Wengerd—Bear Cade Stinnett– Turkey KC Roper-Bear Baylee Maggi– Turkey Steward & Skyler McKinzie—Turkeys Tara Browning– Turkey Jake Calloway– Turkey & Bear Thomas Roark—Turkey Tony Rebo—Turkey Carly Pieper– Turkey Jagger Muniz– Turkey Acelyn Walker Hill—Turkey 14

ANGLERS & ANTLERS PHOTO CONTEST John Roark of Troy, MT took the win and will be the new owner of Rod & Reel Combo from Libby Sports Center, Libby, MT. Ledger Fortner, Kirara Thrasher and Gage Hames were the top three finalist. Our finalist will each receive and embroidered Montana Woods N Water hat prepared by Peregrine Embroidery, Plains, MT. Congrats to our winners!

WINNER

Finalist

Finalist

John Roark

Kiara Thrasher

Ledger Fortner

Finalist

Gage Hames

Pictured Above: Blake Hames with five outstanding shed photos. Blake I see a photo that you might see again on a Montana Woods N Water front cover in the future. Last picture in this row is Brynna Hames with her first shed. Looks cold Brynna!

Pictured left is Wyatt O’Day with a humorous antler pic. Pictured right is our infamous Website Designer Greg Goodman with a beauty.

I am still waiting on that killer recipe Greg...just sayin!

Pictured across the bottom left to right: Hayden Gullingsrud with a keeper...is she cute or what? Thomas Roark with a dandy pike...chip off the old block right John? John Roard with a bodacious pair of pike...were your arms getting tired John? When Wyatt O’Day is not clowning around with antlers on his head he is filling the freezer with fish like this. Now that is a beauty! Keep having fun Wyatt!

15

CONSERVATION EVENTS — LIBBY DUCKS UNLIMITED CONSERVATION DINNER

Kootenai Valley DU Chapter Called Them In

By Raf Viniard I try to make it to as many events as I can but the night of the Kootenai Valley Ducks Unlimited Conservation Dinner, I had other commitments already planned. I hear I missed a heck of a good time. I had to reach out to Jon Jeresek and Western News photographer Paul Sievers to cover this event and a fine job they did.

News Release from Jon Jeresek, Chairperson: “On Saturday, April 30th, the Kootenai Valley Chapter of Ducks Unlimited hosted its 31st conservation dinner. A full house at the Ponderosa Room in Libby feasted on barbeque pork ribs, pulled pork, and roasted chicken. The all you can eat dinner by Frank Hendrickson topped off with several hot dishes, salad bar, fruit trays, appetizers and dessert. The night got off to a rousing start with guns awarded to sponsors and youth members. Thereafter, raffles, live and silent auctions, and door prizes found winners for nearly 200 prizes. A total of 15 guns found new homes during the evening. Jeff and Nellie Brooks from Torgy's Casino kept the hppy crowd well hydrated throughout the evening. Our conservation dinner is hosted the last Saturday of April each year. Jon Jeresek at 406-293 -8246 is you contact for information.

Ducks Unlimited is the world leader in wetland conservation with nearly 14 million acres protected, restored, enhanced, and developed.

Montana ranks 3rd in the nation for waterfowl production, only behind North and South Dakota. For every dollar we raise, Ducks Unlimited invests $3 in wetland conservation right here in Montana.” Let’s see if you recognize any of these winners:

“Filling the skies with waterfowl today, tomorrow and forever!”

16

DUCKS UNLIMITED CONSERVATION DINNER CONTINUED

Congrats to all the winners and

a big thank you for their support of Ducks Unlimited!

17

TONY REBO UNLEASHED

If It Hadn’t Been For Fishing; I Would Have Been A Porn Star

By Tony Rebo I recently saw this quote on a sweatshirt and had to laugh. It reminded me of my own passion and what I might be doing if it were not for fishing. Fishing has brought me so many things, well, besides fish. I have built relationships, friendships, and at times sinking ships because of fishing. Fishing is something that anyone can do. You can be any size and in any condition and still be able to fish. I have fished in the rain, the beating down sun, on windy days, and in the middle of a violent snow storm. Every day is a good day to go fishing.

I recently had an adventure with the newest piece of fishing equipment on the market. The new I-pilot trolling motor. This GPS I-pilot motor is the greatest thing ever invented. I am sure that you have watched the commercials for it on the early Saturday morning fishing channel. A guy pulls up in his pickup pulling a boat, he backs into the water and the boat glides off into the water. The truck pulls out and the guy leaves to park the truck, all the while the boat is unmanned and maneuvering about the lake. The guy returns to the water’s edge the boat pulls up on its own and the guy steps from the dock and into the boat. The boat backs up on its own and travels out into the water all the while the guy is digging in the cooler for a cold beer.

Oh my gosh, this is the greatest thing ever. This new motor will save me one hour of fighting with my wife and another twenty minutes of having to find a cold beverage. When I pull up to unload my boat it goes something like this; first I back to the water’s edge and unhook the boat from the trailer and attach a rope to the front end. I then hand the rope to my wife and ask her to guide me back into the water. The object here is for the boat to become separated from the trailer and to float into the lake. My wife who is holding the rope is supposed to guide the boat back to shore so we can board the boat. Sounds simple, but for some reason it always turns into an hour long task. My wife is obsessed with her cell phone, so sometimes she misses telling me things; like “there is a stump right here, oh never mind too late you have already hit it”.

She also will leave unexpectedly and lay the rope down. I have watched the boat float off and watch my wife return from the restroom. Of course she will always ask “What are you doing?”.

This new motor is going to be the cat’s meow. So we have the boat loaded and backing to the water’s edge. I look at my wife and tell her “This is going to be great.”.

Her response is; “Did you read the instructions manual? “ Are you kidding me, I know all there is to know about boat motors and any piece of fishing gear for that matter. Who does she think she is asking me such a stupid question like that? I think that was when I said “Just watch this.”.

The boat drifted off the trailer into the lake. I pulled away to park the truck and my wife watched out the back window as the boat turned and headed away from the shoreline. She looked at me like I was crazy as we just left the unmanned boat heading out into the lake. We parked the truck and headed to the water’s edge where my boat would be returning to pick us up. We stood at the edge for some time before I came to the conclusion that my boat was not in any hurry returning to pick us up. In fact the boat was nowhere in sight. I began to punch buttons on the hand held remote knowing that at any moment my boat would be returning to me. After that first dreadful hour had passed I realized two things; the first being is that I hadn’t saved anytime, and second my boat was AWOL. .

Continued on next page 18

TONY REBO UNLEASHED CONTINUED I left my wife at the dock as I couldn’t take her rolling around on the ground laughing any longer. I tried to put as much distance between us so I couldn’t hear the constant sound of “hey just watch this”. Ha ha ha ha.

I walked half way around the lake when my boat motored by. I quickly turned the boat with the hand held control and within a moment my boat was on its way to pick me up. I had to find a log on the water’s edge to crawl out on so the boat could just swing by and I would step up on the boat just like in the commercial.

That has got be the fake, it doesn’t work like that. My boat swung up, I stepped from the log and maybe accidently pressed a button, still not sure, but my boat took a hard right turn and I stepped out into emptiness, nothing but water.

I swam back to shore and was cursing at the boat. I stood on the bank soaking wet, I glanced back at my wife who was now pointing at me and howling. She had established a small crowd and they were all laughing in unison. I hate crowds!

My soaking wet remote didn’t want to work at this moment or at least my boat wasn’t responding. I had no choice but to go back to the truck and get out the operation manual. As I passed the small crowd my wife was leading them in a cheer “hey just watch this”.

I read the short version and returned to the water’s edge with the remote. The small crowd was now much larger and my wife was now the mayor of this community. I walked right past all the bantering and snide remarks. I would surely show them. I stood on the water’s edge pointing my remote in the direction that my boat was last seen. Another hour went by and some fisherman had returned to the dock and the fishermen were telling the community members about an unmanned boat out on the water traveling in circles. The boat seemed to be possessed because the fishermen said that every time they got close to it, the unmanned boat would turn away and travel off. The mayor and the community members were now holding signs that read “Hey just watch this”.

Late in the day, just as I was about to give up my boat swung by for a visit, I pointed the hand held devise at the boat and it came to rest at the dock. I quickly tied the boat to the dock and boarded her. A flashing light was blinking on the I-pilot motor, “low battery”. Figures……

So if it wasn’t for fishing, I might have become a porn star. The crowd would still be chanting : “Hey just watch this!”.

19

FLY FISHING

Finding and Fishing the Salmonfly Hatch, and a Caution By Chuck Stranahan On many western Montana rivers the salmonfly hatch is underway. There have been sightings and sessions of good fishing on those big bugs that cause a big frenzy among anglers every season.

They don’t arrive all-at-once. The hatch just sputters along, gradually gaining momentum for a couple of weeks, then holds its own for a couple more, and then gradually disappears.

Bud Lilly’s 1982 catalog featured the Fluttering Stone salmonfly on it’s cover; that fly is still productive today.

Take the fishing where you find it – and don’t be in a rush to join the crowds. There are salmonflies and other bugs, and trout to eat them, in places that don’t get hit that hard or that often.

Typically on many rivers the hatch moves upstream at a predictable rate. A river tends to warm as it moves downstream. The salmonfly nymphs begin their migration to shore when the water temperature is at about 50 degrees.

So far so good, but that water temperature can fluctuate. You might find changes of several degrees if you drop your thermometer in the same spot several times a day. Snowmelt, delivered to a main river by feeder streams, might drop the water temperature below that stream mouth during spells of hot weather. It’s a cat-and-mouse, catch-22 situation.

These big bugs tend to crawl out of the river, split their nymphal shucks and crawl out, wait for blood circulation to pump up their wings, and crawl off, at night. It’s a survival mechanism. At that, I’ve seen them do it in broad daylight. Some bugs didn’t get the message, apparently. But spreading that hatch time out is another sort of survival mechanism: it’s as if it were designed that way.

To find where the big nymphs might be coming ashore, walk the banks of a river where they’re known to hatch and look upstream. See where the current slows and moves to the inside of a bend. You might see the empty shucks of previously hatched bugs on the rocks or willow stems that might, at this time of the year, stick out of the water.

If you see active flies on the surface, and trout slurping them in, Fish there. If there are no active bugs on the surface, fish nymphs.

Two salmonfly nymphs Take a couple of salmonfly nymphs with you if you’re wading; one should be heavily weighted, and the other should be fairly light.

Here’s why: in many places you’ll need that heavy nymph to plunge down through the heavy current in the top of the water column to get down to where the fish are.

Then there are the quiet lies where the salmonfly nymphs will make their way to shore in relatively slow-moving water. In those places, the trout will want to see a nymph that is drifting freely – not plunging to the bottom. The right fly – not too heavily weighted – is essential for a natural presentation in such places.

Forget that roaring torrent just a few feet from you – approach cautiously, as is you were fishing a mountain meadow stream in midsummer. Fish upstream, cast carefully, a few feet above a suspected lie, and let your nymph drift into it as you gradually raise your rod. If anything – anything – interrupts the flow of your leader as it drifts back to you, quickly tighten up.

The best place to do this are at the head of the hatch, where there are salmonflies galore in the air but no fish taking them. Why? The action, or the best part of it, is all under the surface. Just recently guide Chad Williams reported that the “boat horde” that attacks a small section of local river annually was out in force, but not scoring all that well on the surface.

Continued on next page 20

FLY FISHING CONTINUED “Those fish were stuffed on nymphs,” Chad reported. “Their bellies were tight – distended – on nymphs. You could see and feel those hard nymph shucks through their skin. You could even see ‘em. It was as if their bellies were stuffed with buckshot.”

That’s not uncommon. Anglers see swarms of salmonflies in the air at the head of the hatch, and pound the water with a variety of foam-andglitter dry fly imitations with thin results. Meanwhile the trout are taking the easier prey underneath. The nymph fisherman who sticks to the game plan scores big.

Fluttering dry flies The best place to score on dry flies is not at the head of the hatch as it moves upstream, but at the middle or the tail of the hatch. Drive – or better yet – walk the bank – and have your fly rod with you. The middle of the day is usually the best time to spot random feeding, or you might find mating swarms of salmonflies cruising above the river right at dusk.

When the females hit the water to drop their eggs, the fun begins.

Their wings sputter and thrash the water until they finally get airborne again, or they’re taken by a trout. I’ve seen whole sections of more than one river come alive: the nighthawks and other birds feast of the big bugs, putting on aerial shows that amaze me. The splashy, greedy rises of the trout at those times can produce fishing that is almost silly.

Natural salmonflies are most often taken when they are moving. Flies that mimic the struggling wing activity of the naturals are far more effective that those that look like a salmonfly at rest – or dead. The best flies are tied to look like those fluttering naturals.

Back in the ‘80’s, the Fluttering Stone and Improved Sofa Pillow were two of the hottest salmonfly patterns in Montana. From underneath, they had the appearance of a salmonfly that was stuck in the surface film of the water, furiously beating its wings, trying to get airborne before it was swept under.

Those old patterns all but died off for lack of the big hackles to tie them. Modern growers have abandoned production of those hackles to grow feathers for smaller flies – and fashion fads.

I was recently gifted with a stash of these old saddle hackles, the kind you can’t get any more, and have been turning them into those old circa 1980’s flies. Call the shop if you’d like to get your hands on a few of them.

Safe wading – a caution Time again for a reminder here, and we’ll dwell more on this topic later. For now, keep these essentials in mind: First, good wading boots are essential. You can use them with breathable or neoprene stocking-foot waders, or over an extra pair of cushy sox if you’re wading wet. Don’t skimp. Spend about as much as you’d expect to spend for a good pair of hiking boots. Felt or studded soles provide underwater traction that you’ll need to stay upright.

Before you step in, look downstream. Will the prevailing current carry you to shore if you take a tumble? If not, don’t step in beyond that point. Most of my wading is done at little more than knee-deep – but I don’t go in upstream from imminent danger.

Continued on page 29 top right.

21

OUTDOOR MEDS

ARE YOU PREPARED FOR A TOOTHACHE ON THE TRAIL?

By Paula Snyder RDH While on the hiking trail or at hunting camp we prepare and supply our packs for those medical emergencies that can occur, but do we think of dental problems that can arise? Here is a simple kit you can carry for those dental emergencies.

Resealable sandwich bag, used RX pill bottle, small tube of denture adhesive, gauze, salt packets, floss, sugar free gum (long sticks), Q -tips, Acetaminophen( Tylenol), Ibuprofen ( Advil) and your dentist's phone number. Place all items in the sandwich bag. If you are going to a remote area for any length of time see your dentist before going to get work done that could cause a problem on your trip. Dental problems and what to use from your dental kit.

Toothache or Gum Problems: Floss any debris out. Tie a knot on one end of the floss. Pull the knot from the tongue side out towards your cheek helps dislodge debris. Rinse vigorously with a few salt packets dissolved in water.

A combination of Acetaminophen and Ibuprofen can help mouth discomfort. For moderate pain take 400 mg Ibuprofen with 500 mg Acetaminophen every four hours. This regimen is not meant to be used for chronic discomfort. Always ask your doctor if you are able to take these medications. Never place any pain reliever directly on oral tissues as this will cause a very painful burn.

Lost Filling or Broken Tooth: If tooth is sensitive mold a piece of gum to cover the area. You may need to reapply as needed.

Cap(crown) comes off: If any remaining tooth structure is inside the cap place in pill bottle.

Cover tooth if sensitive with gum. If no tooth remnants are seen place a very small amount of denture adhesive inside the cap. Your signal mirror you have in your pack will be useful to help orient and place the cap back on the tooth. Bite down slowly until cap feels “seated�. Avoid eating on the side where this cap is located. You may need to reapply adhesive. Never re -cement a cap with permanent adhesive such as Super Glue.

Physical Trauma To The Mouth: Loose teeth: Stabilize with gum molding over biting surface including the solid adjacent teeth.

Tooth knocked out: Pick it up by the crown ( what you see in the mouth) never by the root. Gently wash debris off of tooth. Place tooth back in socket. Place gauze on tooth's biting surface and gently bite down. Keep gauze in place using constant light pressure. Gum can be used as a splint to help stabilize tooth if needed. If unable to place tooth in its socket saturate a gauze with your saliva and place tooth, holding it by the crown, into the gauze and gently wrap. Place in the sandwich bag and seal.

See a dentist as soon as possible for all described conditions.

Dental emergencies can arise when you least expect them. Hopefully this kit will help if you need it. Happy Trails!

Reviewed by Dr. Andrew Ordelheide DDS, Plains, MT This article supplied by Sanders County Tea Party 22

SHOOTING SPORTS CONTINUED There was no shortage of shooting games to play. Karen Nalley of Libby, MT (pictured top right) called herself the “Circle Pusher”. She had no trouble filling sheet after sheet of gamblers willing to put money on a circle hoping it would be the winner as Mark (pictured left) blasted the paper with a load of shot.

From the target board the paper was taken back to the club house where Walt Stephenson’s (pictured left under Mark) where one of his many jobs was to examine each sheet and see who ‘s circle won, i.e. had the most holes in it.

It wasn’t long until you could smell the burgers cooking on the grill and the call of Bingo numbers from the club house. Tony Johnson (pictured middle right) of Troy had the whole place smelling like a burger joint as orders was coming from the club house kitchen one after another.

Alicia Western and Cindy Johnson (pictured bottom right) both of Troy, MT was, as they referred to the “Bun Warmers”.

They kept that kitchen operating like a brand new Singer Sewing machine. Fries got dipped in hot grease and meals were served to the Bingo players that lined the tables. One shooter after another would slip in for a meal on the run so they could get back into the shooting action.

Mary Stephenson (pictured bottom left), Walts better half held down the Bingo activities . Mary opened the freezer to show me the hundreds of packages of Daly’s bacon she had wrapped by hand for the winning shooters. Walt how do you keep up with this lady? Continued on next page

23

Darby’s fish!

SHOOTING SPORTS CONTINUED During one of the Buddy Shoots I watched Jennifer Cunnington (pictured left) have to pick up her shooting partners Roy Cunnington miss. She claimed, “I had to “pack him” again.” Roy...you might not get to live that one down for a while. You can tell they have fun together on the range.

Ryan Battles (pictured right) a young shooter I have seen as I travel between local shoots.

This young man is no slouch with a shotgun.

He is a quiet kind of young man but he can smoke those little orange birds with the best of the old timers.

Pictured left is Robert Flansaas of Trout Creek, he had the lucky horseshoe this day as he won two of the circle shoots that I know of.

As you can tell this was a fun filled day. This club sits right on Bull Lake and has horseshoe pits, a small beach and a floating dock.

They rent out the club house and grounds by the day so if you need a place to hold a family reunion or a get together this summer contact Walt at 406-295-4790 or you can also visit their web site at www.blrodandgunclub.com for more information.

I darted from Bull Lake R & G club before the event was over to cover the next event of the day, but Walt called me that afternoon and announced that Steve Ward of Libby, MT had won the Ruger 17 HMR and Louise Raper of Troy had won the $50 Prize.

If you want to see a lot more shooting action pictures like the one below jump over to our web page at :http:// montanawoodsnwater.com/ events/ to see all the pictures I took at this event and other shoots over the last few months.

Thanks Walt and all those that made us feel welcome at your Spring Shoot. Hope to see you again this fall.

24

REFLECTIONS OF THE HUNT

"Pilgrim"

By Michael G. Freeman “I know who you are! You're the same dumb pilgrim I've been hearing for twenty days and smelling for three." That is a quote from Jeremiah Johnson, one of my favorite movies thanks to my Dad, and I'm the dumb pilgrim. At least that's how I feel sometimes.

The old logging road beneath my feet was frozen solid. Each step I took sounded like baseball cleats on concrete and the cold November wind was steady at my back. Behind me about two miles was a warm truck with a thermos full of hot coffee. Beyond that is a highway which would take me home to a wife and four kids sleeping soundly in comfortable beds. Far beyond all that are many miles traveled by foot and mountain made memories. My aching legs and exhausted mind attested to that. This last hunting season had not been easy. Two weeks spent chasing elk in September on the Continental Divide near my home town, two weekends up and down coulees near Great Falls and three days cursing the wind on the Rocky Mountain front. Why would anyone want to do this? Why spend so much time away from everything that matters, away from home and loved ones?

Why not just buy meat at the local grocery store? Ground beef was on sale at Super One. Why not save gas and my truck from the wear and tear? Why am I here? How did I get here?

Butte, Montana is where it all started. Born and raised in the "tough town." It was all I knew and it was perfect. My mother was a caring homemaker with a strong faith in God. My father was a hard working man with a passion for all things outdoors, especially hunting. He taught me well. I learned to be a part of Montana. A part of life and death not just a spectator but a caretaker. I found I need a strong dose of nature to function in this busy world. The days of hunting with my Dad are sadly over but soon I'll be taking my kids into the woods to teach them all the lessons and skills my Dad shared with me.

So it's here I belong on this frozen piece of earth with memories of Father and son tracking elk and deer together through the forests of Big Sky country and a hope that I'll get a chance at a decent buck. The sun was starting to rise. All the things grey in the morning were beginning to take color and my steps become quieter as the ground softened. One switchback leads into the next and trees were becoming more abundant while leaving behind the clear cuts of the past. I look down the drainage that the road that I was on would pass through and see the biggest bull moose I have ever seen.

I'm no expert on the species but his paddles were massive, his body was jet black with a small patch of white on his neck. I raised my rifle to get a closer look through the scope. I counted, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six and he was gone with a thunderous crash, producing a noise much like that of the heavy equipment once used to extract timber from this land. His mass cleared an escape route to safety. At first I was in awe but then the smile on my face slowly became a blank stare. I knew any animal in that canyon heard that beast in his retreat. Again I started to think about retiring to my pickup but I'm was there and it's where I live to be. I walked on and could see my road was reaching its end. I paused to go over my choices. Up or down? I glanced up and saw a formidable outcropping of rock with a timber stand just above it.

It would have been a climb but was doable. Next I looked down and there was a gradual finger ridge with good grass and sparse trees. The branches of a tree just two hundred yards away began to rise and turned into the rack of a mature buck as he stood up. I dropped to one knee and sat my rifle upon my shooting sticks. I settled my crosshairs over his vitals. The whitetail gave me ample amount of time to determine if he was the deer I had been hunting for. Is he the deer I want to debone and pack out darn near three miles? If he is the deer I'll feed my family...

"You got him pilgrim, you nailed him clean!"

Publishers Note: George Nass and I met Michael as we were coming out of the Thompson River drain from hunting last year. Michael was sitting at a gate catching his breath and resting after the long pack out. I grabbed my camera and took a picture of him and asked Michael if he would share his story with us. He said he could not only share his story but would like to share a story of his Dad’s in honor of him this Father’s Day. Since it is Father’s Day this month we wanted to share it with our readers. Go to page 27.

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OUTDOOR TECH

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FATHER’S DAY TRIBUTE

By Carl Freeman "You just remember the bet," Hal said, as we drove along the highway. We were north bound on Highway 15, out of Butte, heading for a favorite hunting spot.

The weather was beautiful for late October, and as we passed through Elk Park the headlights of the jeep kept us looking in the meadows for any sign or figure that resembled an elk.

Hal and his brother, Lance, had grown up in the Elk Park area, working an old silver mine that was their grandfather's dream. Things never really worked out in the mining business for them, but the experience helped and roughing it in the mountains was very enjoyable at times.

Carl Freeman and his hunting buddy Hal.

We had all grown up together and as kids we often made bets on who was the best shot and who would shoot the biggest rabbit or the most prairie dogs. Sharing a small box of 22 caliber bullets and taking turns using an old single shot rifle was the general rule, and it didn't take long to learn about not wasting shells or hunting foolishly. Not to say we didn't have fun, but we did learn to separate our target practices from our more serious hunting. I guess it just carried over into big game hunting as we got older. Here we were; betting our hair, that the other wouldn't get a bull elk this hunting season. We both enjoy our hair fairly long and the thought of a Marine style haircut just didn't seem to fit me!

As we drove up in to the mountains, both of us watching intently, trying to get the first glance of elk in the open parks. It was early in Montana state general rifle season and even though there was no snow, the air was crisp and clear. It seemed the little Jeep's heater was just making noise without heat and trying to rob electric power from the dim headlights. I wondered what daylight would bring as we pulled over and parked facing a large open park.

Bringing up the day's sun with coffee out of a thermos, seemed to wake the hunting instinct, not to mention quieting my growling stomach. We weren't in any big hurry because we wanted to watch for game crossing and heading for higher ground. We were also the only vehicle in sight and it was quiet andHere still For as we surveyed Click Virtual Tourour surroundings.

Suddenly my body shook and I watched Hal dump coffee into his lap. "Alright," he said, "knock it off!" I looked at him blank faced wondering what he meant, as the Jeep shook again even more vigorously. "Nice trick," he said. "How'd you do it?" I didn't have time to answer as the Jeep bounced up and down as if someone was lifting it entirely from the rear. I quickly looked behind us expecting a monster of a man or a bear or something, but no, nothing was around. It dawned on me, as Hal looked half scared and bewildered.

"Earthquake," I said. "Been through them before," I explained. "Overseas, while stationed in the service," I said. Hal kind of laughed and said, "Well I hope that's all. After I saw you weren't playing tricks‌that scared the hell out of me." "Yes," I agreed. "It makes you feel so helpless and being up here on top of this mountain doesn't help much either," I exclaimed.

Well, by now the day was bright and beautiful and the sun was giving off a little heat to the crystal blue sky. We then agreed that there were huge bull elk just waiting for us to go after them, so we hurriedly left the Jeep with hopes that each of us would be lucky, and that the other would be the one to get his hair cut. In the previous years I had seen a lot of beautiful bull elk in the region we were hunting but they always seemed to vanish like ghosts. Also, I had gun trouble at the worst times, always when I ran into a nice bull. I now felt more confident with a new rifle and was sure that it had been sighted in properly. I knew Hal was also sure of himself, but I could sense his thoughts of having to get a close shaven haircut. The pressure was on both of us, as we walked looking for fresh sign in the heavy timber. Continued on page 29 left column below picture.

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MOUNTAIN MEMORIES

A Patient Father

By Carol Cady My Dad and I just a few years ago!

With Father’s Day fast approaching, I can’t help but think of my Dad and the wonderful times we experienced in the woods together. He has been gone a long time, but for me, you never forget those Father-Daughter times spent together.

He taught me probably most of what I know today, how to shoot, gun safety, survival skills and on and on.

Remembering one time in particular, we were hunting the McGinnis Meadows area and he sent me off in one direction and he went in the opposite direction saying “Now you can’t get lost, this is all pretty flat with no ridges, just circle around and I will meet you back here at the truck.” So, with a little hesitation I trekked out in the direction he said. It was very lightly snowing with just a skiff covering the ground, you could still see the grass poking through. I was probably only 12 or 13 years old mind you, so you readers don’t judge me too harshly! After about 30 minutes I heard the loudest crashing and banging imaginable.

I forgot to mention this was a really thick stand of lodgepole. It didn’t seem to let up and I could hear that the noise was coming directly at me. So, I did what any smart-minded person would do...I found a larger tree (than a lodgepole) and crouched down and hid! Just in time too, as a big Bull Elk came roaring past me. I was stunned to say the least, even, after all these years you never forget! He was so close…I could have stuck out my rifle and tripped him and of course the “musky smell” hung in the air!! My father probably spooked him as that was the direction he had came from.

I continued to hunt but was wondering what on earth was I going to tell Dad...that I had hid from a Bull Elk? So, after a couple of hours we met up back at the vehicle and I cautiously began to tell him what had happened. He laughed and said….”You will see tracks, smell them, catch a glimpse of them and some day everything will come together and you will get your chance and connect!” This patient man was the best Father a girl could have. I was lucky and I know it!

You are missed to this day Dad!

My Dad: Bob Wilson 28

FLY FISHING CONTINUED The best place to do this are at the head of the hatch, where there are salmonflies galore in the air but no fish taking them. Why? The action, or the best part of it, is all under the surface. Just recently guide Chad Williams reported that the “boat horde” that attacks a small section of local river annually was out in force, but not scoring all that well on the surface.

When you wade, keep your feet shoulder-width apart and shuffle along, sideways to the current. Pick your way around and below bigger rocks – don’t step on top of them. Don’t go in beyond the point where you can easily turn upstream into the current to wade back out.

Wade safe – avoid swift currents.

The best safety advice for the wading angler is this: Be chicken.

Chickens don’t drown.

FATHERS DAY TRIBUTE CONTINUED: Suddenly, fresh elk tracks appeared and they seemed to travel along the ridge just as we expected. There seemed to be a lot of sign and we knew the elk were close. We had hunted this area enough to know that the elk fed the early morning near the edge of the timber in the small parks along the ridge. It was still early and we knew one of us would jump elk and that our chances were better if we split up near the top. As we motioned silently to one another I felt my heart start to pound and I realized more the meaning of our bet. I had to succeed because I knew Hal would be hunting and walking his heart out. In previous years both Hal and Lance had taken elk, not big bulls, but at least they had put meat on the table. I now looked carefully at the more fresh tracks and saw where on elk had separated from the main herd. The tracks were large and rounded like those of a bull, and fresh enough that the smell of elk clung to the trees. I tried to hurry and yet be quiet as a mouse, checking the wind and keeping my eyes moving constantly. I heard noise ahead and thought I saw the creamy colored body deep in the thick fir trees. Suddenly a loud gunshot and my heart sank. I ran ahead and all I could hear was the cracking of timber and the strong smell of a bull elk. Then I turned and headed toward the gun's report. It seemed so close, within 50 yards I guessed. Then another shot and I heard Hal yell. I knew he had gotten a bull and I had just missed again. Hal was standing on a knoll directly across from me, not 30 yards, and was filled with excitement. "I just shot a five point," he exclaimed. "I can't believe it!"

"I stopped on this side of this hill to sit and do my duty and then after I was done, I walked only about 10 yards and peered over this hill and there he was." "I don't know why he didn't smell me!" "He was feeding with his head down and I couldn't see his horns for a minute or two." "I just froze," he said, "and waited for him to raise his head. When I saw the horns I let him have it! He's a beauty, come see."

As we walked down the hill along the rise the sun shown brightly on the light colored side of the elk, and his horns glistened as steam raised from his nostrils and mouth. "He tried to get up, so I shot twice," Hal said. Continued on page 30.

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FATHER’S DAY TRIBUTE CONTINUED I couldn't believe the size as we neared the bull laying on its side. "What a beauty," I said, giving him five to his extended hand. I told him I had to saw a bull myself and that I was nearly about to shoot when he did. He started laughing out loud and I saw him smile from ear to ear.

"You're sure gonna look funny," he said, referring to my upcoming haircut. I laughed with him, but was crying inside, feeling like there was no tomorrow for hair. I could picture myself in my mind, how I had looked in basic training several years earlier.

Both Hal and I check the elk over, looking at his fine winter condition and checking to see where Hal's Weatherby had made its mark. The bull was large and cleaning him was definitely a two man job. But we got the job done and Hal headed back to see if he could drive the Jeep close enough to load the elk. It wasn't long and I could see the little Jeep appear dodging trees and rocks along its path. We loaded the elk with a small cable hoist chained to a nearby tree and after tying it securely, headed straight back to Butte.

Hal had shot the elk about 9AM and we returned home shortly after noon. As we drove through town, people twisted their heads to try and get a glimpse of the five pointed horns and the huge body nearly covering the little Willis Jeep. Both of us were as excited as could be, but I felt I had just missed my chance again and was long overdue for my bull.

Later that evening after the excitement of the earthquake and Hal's hunting success, I returned home. We had told quite a story to everyone and Hal had been sure to impress on me the bet we made. I told him I remembered but hunting season wasn't over yet, and I still had a chance. It seemed a slim chance but I wouldn't admit it. I thought very seriously of going that night to the barber shop, but I decided to hunt my hardest until the season was over. I was hoping to at least shoot a spike elk, in order I might keep my hair.

So calling Hal on the phone, we planned another days hunt. Hal was still laughing as he answered the phone, but agreed to go and try to fill his deer tag. So the next morning the Jeep was rolling again, and back we headed to Earthquake Park. As we copied the previous day, we wondered if the ground would shake or even if the sun would shine. "Well," Hal said, "There's the sun, let's go." So off we went up along the ridge in the dark shadows. The sign of elk was still around, but not as fresh, and I wondered if we should have stayed home to rest. As we neared the top we could see the wheel tracks left by the jeep and soon we were at the spot where Hal had shot his bull. After resting I told Hal I would walk along the ridge and to pick me up in the Jeep north of where we were. Hal wished me good luck and with a crooked smile just laughed. As I walked away I grasped my hair and could see Hal breaking up with laughing.

Soon we were out of sight of each other, and I stopped to plan further the route I intended to take. The country was rugged and only the small trails beneath the large fir trees were accessible. I walked slowly and quietly and kept my attention looking deep into the dark trees. Suddenly a sound, a small crack of twigs, on a trail below me. I could sense something was moving toward me about 75 yards away. Then movement, a cow elk sneaking on a trail with her head down approximately 60 yards away. She stopped as she neared an opening looking in all directions and sniffing the wind. I froze in my tracks and slowly raised my 30-06 rifle peering through the scope. I watched the cow as she stopped before crossing a small opening nearly cat-like behind a large tree. I hoped maybe a bull would be following her so I let her cross without making a sound to disturb her. Then I saw horns, two large spikes.

Without the use of the rifle scope, I could see a bull elk followed slowly 20 yards behind her. Atop a dark body I could see a large set of horns moving slowly in the trees. I slowly raised the rifle watching as the elk neared the opening. It stopped and only two spikes showed from behind the large tree. I waited and seconds seemed like hours. Then the bull took another step and looked around cautiously. Continued on page 33

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MORE PICTURES

Running out of room quick this month. Top row left to right: Thomas Roark and Gerry Mercer both of Libby, MT with a three nice Columbia River catfish.

Jessie Jaquith of Columbia Fall, MT with his bear (also see bottom right pic) and Dylan Buckner of Libby, MT with his first bear...way to go Dylan!

Bottom row left to right: Bridger Hames with a “Hoss” of a rainbow. Chad Gullingsrud of Libby, MT with his daughter Hayden and a nice kitty! Tanner Hames with a nice mountain perch caught through the ice this last winter. Congrats to all...keep “Living The Dream!”

Jessie Jaquith daughters with the family black bear!

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FATHER’S DAY TRIBUTE CONTINUED I placed the scope and crosshairs directly on the body behind the front shoulder and gently pulled the trigger. The loud report of the gun shook the trees as I watched the large bull run off along the mountain below me. I lowered the rifle in time to see more elk turn and crash into the trees running back along the trail they had come. "How could I have missed?" I asked myself, as I visualized the big bull running down the trail. I hurried down the hillside to follow the trail where I saw no sign of the bull except the impressions left by his hooves. As I walked quietly along the trail the large dark trees blocked out the sun and it seemed once again I had just missed. As I walked along the dark trail another large fir tree stood out and I looked off the trail toward the swampy pools filled with elk tracks. As I rounded the large tree, up came a large set of horns nearly, hitting my face and I jumped back to avoid being hit. There he was! The bull had run almost 50 yards down along the trail turning completely around in order to watch me before collapsing. He tried to get up again as I met him behind the tree and I nearly had a heart attack when his large six point rack raised to within a foot of my face. I jumped quickly to one side of the trail and yelled, "Oh no you don't…you sucker!" I quickly pointed the rifle at his neck as he raised to his feet and attempted to run. At point blank range I squeezed the trigger again. The gun's report echoed through the trees and there lay an elk with a four foot spread and six white tipped ivory points on each side. There behind the front shoulder a small bullet hole just where I aimed. "What a beautiful elk," I screamed as I jumped on top of it hugging it and grabbing the large set of horns.

So much excitement in two days, and the pressure of the bet had been relieved. At 9AM as I walked back to get Hal, I laughed and screamed out loud, running my fingers through my hair. I realized how lucky I really was and thanked God for my success, and being able to keep my hair.

From The Ryan Family Thanks Everyone For Their Support During The Plains Day Dance Welcome Home Jake!

Be a Montana Woods N Water Sponsor for only $20.00 a month.

3-4 lines that will fit into this block!

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Congratulations… to all the 2016 Graduates from Montana Woods N Water

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OUTDOOR VET—Homer T. Davis Born 7 June 1916 Homer celebrated his 100th Birthday a few days ago and the party is going to get even bigger 11 June at the Halfway House Bar & Grill. Homer is pictured here with his old Springfield 30-06 topped with a Leupold 2 X 7 Vari X I. He may not be able to hunt or shoot it anymore but this World War II veteran has killed a many elk, deer and bears with his old rifle. He dropped his last elk in the Yaak several years ago. He regrets he was never drawn for a moose tag after all these years.

Homer served under General Patton and described him this way, “He was a “Tough Old Bastard”, you could hear him bellowing from several yards away. He was a very shrewd man.” Homer was a Military Policeman and fixed the roads while in the US Army from 1940—1945. He said they worked day and night. Gen. Patton traveled by night when advancing.

Homer’s memory maybe a little rusty but he has some words of wisdom and other informative information we will cover in the July issue after his big birthday party. Come celebrate Homer’s 100th Birthday with us on 11 June (Saturday) at the Halfway Bar & Grill, Live music by Country Comfort, bring a side dish and FREE camping is available. Festivities start at 3:00PM and the potluck dinner will starts at 5:00PM. For more information call 406-295-4358. See ya there!

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